Month: December 2018 (Page 2 of 3)

Sunday, December 16, 2018 (Court Day #235)

Last night, I got out my last roll of grip tape and added a outer later to my new Prince paddle handle. I’ve been meaning to do that for a couple of weeks, but this time I remembered before I got to the court!

My wife said rain was predicted today at 1 p.m. I got to Derby Park at 8:50 a.m. under threatening skies.

To protect my eyes from injury—a hot topic lately—I got out my cheesy freebie bright silver plastic glasses that’d popped the lenses out of. They continued to garner amusing comments from nearby players.

New Glasses

Stuart asked again about the effectiveness of my cheesy freebie bright silver plastic glasses frames. I told him it’s been busy and I haven’t been able to get to a store yet. He said, “I bought you some safety glasses.” I was thinking, “Please, God, may they not be those nasty yellow-tint things!” He then produced a pair of crystal clear wrap-style safety glasses with black and yellow accents. They looked pretty good. “How much do I owe you?” “Three bucks.” That’s reasonable. I played with them a few games then fished out three one-dollar bills from my wallet and gave them to to a happy Stuart along with a “thank you”.

Allan and Karl yapping it up about something.

Return of the Tennis Coach

Bob Hansen, who had been my college tennis P.E. tennis coach in the ’80s, came again today. He said his friend Jack was coming soon, who has a pickleball court installed on his property. (Boy. I’d love to have that!) Bob and I got to play a game together against Allan and Olga. We dispatched them in short order. Bob, teaching tennis for decades, has great hand-eye coordination, ball handling skills, reflexes, footwork, and ball placement. He still learning the finer details of pickleball, but he’s already above average. I made a winning jumping overhead slam to Allan’s feet. Bob gave me some compliment, to which I replied, “I learned that from my college tennis coach.” (Honestly, I don’t remember, but it’s likely we covered overheads back in the day.)  “Well, I’ll take credit for that. It was a beautiful shot!” A nice pat on the back! I have to say, it’s an odd feeling—but a good feeling—to be playing on the same court as an equal some 30 years later with one of my former university tennis instructors.

From the left: Jeff, Charles (white hair), Ron (black shirt), Tom, MaryAnn, Eric, Dave Cox (white shirt), plus Kim, Craig and his wife in a visual lump.

Surprise!

Oleg was signed up in a box in red. Eric and I added our names. Now, we just had to wait for a fourth to sign up in our box. That fourth would be Grita. We’d have a strong game. Nice. I figured Eric and I would split up but Grita wanted to play with Oleg, plus she thought Eric and I were still practicing as tournament partners. (We may play again as partners, but Eric isn’t super keen on tournaments and he’s also going to hit 60 soon and wants to play in 60+ age brackets . . . I have almost a decade before I can do that!) Anyway, it would be Eric and me. Boy. This game was a shocker. Eric and I played very well and we took them down 11-4. Wow. It might be a “one off” game but still this would have never happened a year ago. We’ve come a long way.

Rules

Dave Cox yelled over from a game where he was playing with Bob and Jack: “What’s the rule when the ball hits the crossbar on the opposite side?” I called back, “It’s a let!” Dave knows that I have read the rulebooks several times. (I say “rulebooks” because there was a new revision issued this past January, replacing the one that I first started with.)

End of the Day

The last two games were Binh and me against Grita and Olga. I told Binh, “I’ll play with you . . . that way you can’t hit me in the face!” (Last Sunday, Binh drove the net volley that bounced off my paddle and into my left eyeball.) “That’s no guarantee!”, he laughed.

My right ankle was starting to hurt whenever I turned it a certain way during the game. And I was starting to drag; I was tired. I was approaching 4 hours of pickleball. We only had about 35 players today, so wait times weren’t particularly long between games, so there was a lot of court time.

Binh was behind me while I was at the kitchen line. Next thing I knew, a returned ball whizzed by whacking me in the hose on its way across the net! “Binh! You hit me in the nose!” “I told you!” I played up the injury as much as I could. It was pretty funny.

Sparse large raindrops appeared on the court, still threatening, but that was the extent of it. The rain wouldn’t come until well after the 1 p.m. projection, but it would certainly come this afternoon.

Play was done at 1:20 p.m. Long day at the courts.

So, how was today? Far better than Friday, that’s for sure. My play is back to normal, it seems.

Awkward

I’ve been debating posting about this but it’s a learning lesson. I was in a game today where a serve landed very close to the line. A receiver will always have a hard time properly judging a ball that close due to the angle of approach. It will often fall to the partner to make the line call. As a receiver’s partner, it’s up to you.

Well, I served such a ball that landed close to the baseline. The receiver couldn’t make a proper call but his partner was “eyes forward” and not following the ball. This is silly for two reasons: 1) you need to be able to make the call; 2) by watching your partner’s return from the baseline, you can determine earlier if and where you need to shift along the kitchen line and be in the best possible strategic position for the third shot*. When the receiver suggested to his partner, “I need you to watch the ball so you can call those,” the partner defensively and angily countered, “Don’t tell me how to play!” After a brief pause, to avoid an unpleasant finish, the receiver announced he was forfeiting the game and walked off the court. It was an uncomfortable situation.

*I’ll note here that some teams pick in advance where the ball will be heading on a service return, Typically, that’s a given player, but sometimes, it might be always back to the server.

We all need to be humble, especially as in this case when your partner has been playing pickleball for much longer than you and maybe even has tournament experience which you may not have. Sometimes, we forget this thing we are playing is a game. G-A-M-E. It’s supposed to be fun. Sheesh.

Monday, December 17, 2018 (No Play)

Ow. I did a real number on my right ankle. Last night, even while rolling over in bed, I had to be careful to not put twisting pressure on my foot. Walking is generally ok—though an occasional touch of pain—but turning or rotating on the leg is painful. Sometimes, I feel like I’m falling apart. Tennis elbow, twisted ankle, sore lower back. Ugh. There are two ways to play pickleball . . . like a 90-year-old or like a 20-year-old. I’m far from ready to give up playing the 20-year-old version!

I’m constantly listening to pickleball podcasts, reading pickleball posts on Facebook, viewing pickleball photos on Instagram, and watching pickleball videos on YouTube. Instructional videos and articles are becoming less useful to me as time goes on—I’ve been exposed to most concepts at this point of almost two years into playing. Today, Barrett of Pickleball Kitchen uploaded a new video. This one on dink volleys. It has some good key points and it’s a “fast” 10 minutes.

Barrett sent me a friend request last week after I commented on Facebook in a discussion on pickleball podcasts—and, of course, I approved him! (We’d emailed back and forth a few times previously.)

Saturday, December 22, 2018 (No Play)

Running a retail business the week before Christmas, there has been no pickleball for me. Plus I caught a bug and have been fighting a sore throat for a few days. The big annual Santa Cruz Pickleball Club Christmas party was last night but I didn’t want to make me everyone sick, so I had to send my regrets to the fearless leaders. Today, my throat is much improved, but drainage is now an issue and I’m having to clear my throat and cough frequently.  I hope it’s not one of those illnesses that drags on for weeks and weeks. Those are super annoying. I had one last year like that.

My tennis elbow is really flaring up. Simple things are causing pain. Not fun.

Sunday, December 23, 2018 (No Play)

I went to bed feeling less sick, but woke up with my throat feeling worse. Bugger. So much for playing for an hour before needing to be work at 11. I had asked John P. to close Derby for me today and texted him asking if he could now open too. He immediately called me explaining he had a bit of an “emergency” with relatives coming but his heater had stopped this morning. So I emailed Stuart who had conveniently replied to a site coordinator group email just minutes before. I asked Stuart if he could come by 10 a.m. then stay to close. He said he’d do that.

I got out of bed, threw on some clothes and when I got to Derby Park, Tom S. had already unlocked the bins and was setting up—nice. I loaned him my charged battery to blow off the courts then collected it when he was done. As I was leaving, Stuart walked up wearing the brightest fluorescent orange shirt. “If I’m going to be the site coordinator, I want people to see me!”

Being sick may have been a blessing in disguise, since my tennis elbow—even without playing—had gotten worse. There has been little to no improvement in the last month. It’s pretty miserable.

Number of days on a court: 235
Number of total hours: 644

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Friday, December 14, 2018 (Court Day #234)

Rain was predicted. Originally, it was around 10, then it got pushed back to 11:30. I arrived at Brommer Park at 9 a.m. I was the seventh person there. It was overcast but I was still wearing sunglasses for eye protection.

Warmup

I was soon warming up with John P. and the short redhead, Di. My dropshots were practically nonexistent. They were all going into the net. It was bad. Barb R. walked up. She realized that she had no glasses on, she said, “I’ve been hit in the eye three times. I don’t play without glasses anymore.” She got her protective eyewear and came back and we were soon in a game. My play wasn’t any better in a live game—it was definitely off.

Stuart called over to me from his game across the divider, “Are you going all Hollywood on us?” Yeah, my sunglasses. I overheard from the other court, “Hiding the black eye from us!”

Ted, Chris, Grita and Dave Allenbaugh get a mid-morning game in.

Elite Game

”We can play with these guys.” It was Dean talking to Leslie about me and Barb R. Ugh. Perfect timing. Playing with two strong players when my play is awful. That will make a good impression. Sigh. Oh, well. My play was crappy. I completely whiffed on one backhand shot trying to return a shot from Dean. I think I had one good point in the whole game. Embarrassing.

It got darker. I took off my sunglasses. I had a second free pair of sunglasses I got at a trade show. They are obnoxious bright silver. I pushed out the lenses. I did a quick test with a ball to see how far close it could get to my eyeball while wearing them. Hmmm. Not perfect, but it’d provide some protection. I’ll need to pick up some better clear protective glasses.

My right arm is still suffering from tennis elbow. Not fun. Certain shots are painful. I ended up rubbing my elbow a few times over the course of the morning.

Stuart asked, “Will those glasses prevent the ball from getting to your eyes?” I told him that it might not, but it was better than nothing and that I need to make a run to a local store to pick some up.

Getting to the Line

Later, I was in a game with some other intermediates. I was the strongest player on the court. I was at the kitchen line. My partner was receiving. She hit a deep return. Great. Then the other team hit the ball hard right back where it can come from. I turned. Huh? Where was my partner? *grumble* Still at the baseline! What the heck? How to lose at pickleball—stay at the baseline. I realized if we wanted to stay in this rec game, I was going to have to play very well and maybe be a bit more aggressive poaching shots. I did play much better in this game. We did lose, but it was close. And my partner did some up to the net sometimes, but not nearly as quickly and as often as she should.

What I noticed today was me not properly tracking to my right to close up the middle of the court. There were probably three shots down the middle where I was diagonal from the hitter, meaning they were my responsibility. Something to work on.

It Arrives

It started to very lightly mist. John P. slid a little while running down a ball at the net. “I’m done. I don’t want to get hurt.” We stopped the game. 11:15. All the courts cleared. A few people decided they wanted to go back out and continue to play anyway. Good luck with that.

As I was driving home, it was a downpour. 11:30. I hope those overly optimistic players got off the courts and into their cars in time!

Overview

There are good days and bad days. The overall trajectory of skill is up, however, there are days of sliding down. Today was one of those sliding days. It’s a natural progression in developing any physical skill, of course, but it feels lousy nonetheless.

Number of days on a court: 234
Number of total hours: 640

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.

Wednesday, December 12, 2018 (Court Day #233)

Last night, I checked my pickleball backpack for sunglasses. Two pairs. Good. At some point, I’ll need to solve the problem of eye protection while playing at night or non-sunglasses conditions. My left eye seems fine, pressure from a finger causes no discomfort and bright light has no negative effect.

I got to Derby Park a few minutes after 9 a.m. While it had been in the 40s around 8 a.m., it was going to be a nice sunny day.

I was in a game with Rick against George and Ted B. Afterward, George told me, “You played really well. You made some excellent shots.”
I downplayed it, “I made some really bad shots too.”
He countered, “But the good ones were deliberate and intentioned.”

Oleg and his wife Olga showed up mid–morning. Oleg signed up in the advanced color of red and I added my name under his. Tom Sherwood asked and I said, “Sure, sign up, we need four.” Grita added her name. I opted to play with Tom. Grita likes to win and was happy to play with Oleg, the strongest player. I don’t care if I lose, I want to go against the strongest competition. I really like Tom, he’s a good guy, he’s just not as strong of a player, he’s a solid 3.0. After a failed shot, Tom said, “I should probably just go home!” We lost 11-3 or 11-4 or something. It was lopsided. Still, I got a few good shots in.

Oleg lobbing on George and Chris while his partner Jane looks on.

I finished up shortly after noon to head home then to work. (Work is getting busy with Christmas only two  weeks away.)

There were three shots today where I completely whiffed on the ball. I thought I told was the sunglasses, but maybe it’s the tennis elbow that’s dragging on. Odd, regardless.

It’s supposed to rain this weekend.

Number of days on a court: 23
Number of total hours: 638

To start at the beginning of this blog click on “1st Post” in the menu above.